Perfectly Simple
by yue kato
Summary: Set from vol 1-3 up to Sasuke's near-death. Sasuke's POV. Yaoi. (re-post)


I wrote this quite a while back when there was still no 'naruto' section in existence on ff.net. this was one of those fics that just come to you, where the words just flow from your fingertips. it was originally posted in the misc anime section, and i was pleasantly surprised by the reviews. i apologise to these kind reviewers as their feedback will be lost as i'm relocating the fic to the naruto section where it rightfully belongs. thanks to Wusai, the dark phantasy for letting me know that there was such a section ^_^ and the rest of the reviewers (Fujiwarano Sai, Nora D, Ruaki, SW, Soura Momicchi, Cirrus, lily, i.am.lee., and yami no tenshi) i hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as i did writing it.  
  
Perfectly Simple yue kato 200102  
  
Funny. how much I used to hate him. And now, falling into his arms, my life's blood seeping from the various wounds, there's this measure of peace settling over me, to have his warm body so close to mine. The intensity of emotions pouring from him is almost tangible, and I feel slightly gratified that it's all because of me.  
  
Strange, when had all this hate mutated, metamorphosised into a determination that he should live, even if it had to take my death to fulfil it? I had a mission once, but somewhere along the way I lost it. lost it to him. Lost it due to an emotion that I dare not name: by all rights, it should be forbidden to an avenger, but he made me forget.  
  
It seems I have sort of known him all along, although we never officially met until the day we formed our team with Sakura and Kakashi. It was impossible to overlook him, he was always 'on display', be it playing a prank or paying for the consequences of one, but then, I was able to push thoughts of him aside, for I did not know him truly yet.  
  
I despised him when he first spoke to me: he had none of the traits a ninja was supposed to possess. No calm, no level-headedness, no calculation, no intelligence. Granted, most genin who just graduate from the training school are not much better, but he seemed to be the very epitome of stupidity. And he had to flaunt it by vying for the attentions of a screeching birdbrain of a girl.  
  
Yet. and yet, all these long months, I have not been able to wipe the memory of the searing heat when his lips first touched mine, on that long- ago morning, under the eyes of many.  
  
Weird. the things that spring to one's mind as one is dying. I would have thought I would be filled with bitter hatred and remorse, that I had not fulfilled any of the vows I had set myself, hadn't even come close. But all the things I can think of now are only memories of him, of how he made me feel.  
  
I remember the twinge in my heart when I realised he was an orphan, the same as I. All of a sudden, I thought I understood much of his behaviour, and saw the desperation beneath the actions. I couldn't suppress that rush of anger that made me snap at Sakura, it was unstoppable the moment I heard the disdain and indifference in her voice - the immaturity that bespoke of one who had never undergone true pain and suffering.  
  
I remember the way he laughed after both Sakura and I offered him our lunches during that final trial. I could almost sense the relief running through it, the joy at being part of a group, the feeling of companionship and togetherness. I think that was the instant. The instant when my heart began to soften, the barriers slowly eroding away. That laugh struck a chord in my heart, reminding me of how similar we were, and I almost wouldn't have minded - almost - if Kakashi had failed us then and there.  
  
There is something about him, some sort of secret. I do not think he knows about it, for if he did, it would be a secret no longer. He can never help but blurt out everything: his thoughts, his emotions, his tears and laughter. He is the very antithesis of a ninja. But I think Kakashi knows. It seems most of the adults in the village are in on this collective secret, which is why they warn their children away from him. It's cold, freezing actually, that touch of ostracism, and both of us, in our own ways, have had to bear it. But at least I understood why I was being excluded, even if I never really accepted it.  
  
I realised I felt something for him that first time we came under attack as we left the village. The idea that something would come along and snuff out that bright flame before it could become a blazing bonfire was simply unimaginable. Suddenly, the moves just came automatically, flowing like inspiration from deep within me.  
  
He brings out something within me that others can't reach, and there's a connection between us, much as I would have liked to deny it. Being the idiot he is, he probably doesn't even notice it, but he unconsciously calls upon it during the most urgent of times, communicating things to me in the blink of an eye. We fought well, during that desperate battle against Zabuza, a master ninja that had managed to trap even Kakashi, and the flash of insight he had then, in the midst of combat, still amazes me.  
  
The turning point came when we were training to control our chakra in the woods. My control had gradually loosened, worn away by exhaustion and frustration, partly from an irrational anger at being surpassed by a mere chit of a girl, and from the slow rate of my own improvement.  
  
And then I was just tumbling down from the tree again when something at the corner of my eye caught me off guard. He and Sakura were crouching under another large tree trunk, heads close together, whispering softly. The sight wasn't what threw me, the thing that shocked me was the sudden surge of jealousy at seeing them so intimate. And I was perfectly clear of who I was jealous of.  
  
I made several continuous runs up the tree after that, just to work off the roil of emotions it aroused within me. When I finally dropped to the ground, it was just to see that he had improved considerably, and was not far behind me at all. He was standing in front of his tree, gathering his thoughts and concentration, perfectly still, and so seemingly out-of-reach. I had to do something to break the tableau, to prove to myself that he was still the same stupid clown that I sort-of despised.  
  
So I called out to him, and I wasn't disappointed. He jumped three feet into the air and whipped around, shouting at me, and I was so relieved at the familiarity of him that I didn't know what to say. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.  
  
"What did Sakura tell you?"  
  
The look of shock and disbelief gradually transformed into one of smugness and glee. "I'm not telling you."  
  
It was a challenge, and I was never one to back down. Only I didn't really expect myself to answer it in such a way. I had the irrepressible urge to just wipe that grin off his face. Before he knew what was going on, I was already in front of him. He raised his arms as if to ward off an attack, but not for my kind of assault. Actually, I wasn't prepared for my kind of assault either.  
  
The next thing I knew we were both on the ground, with me stretched out full length on top of him. My hands were cupping those flushed cheeks, and my lips tasted the fiery nectar of his. He lay frozen, arms pinned between us by my weight, as I gave in to a yearning I only began to acknowledge had been burning within me since the last time we kissed.  
  
Finally I came to myself and managed to drag myself off him, flinging myself on the ground beside him, keeping some distance between us. I knew then that if I touched him again I would want to do more.  
  
After a few moments, he raised a trembling hand to his lips, and the words that issued from his mouth floored me. "I'm still not telling you."  
  
Helpless mirth bubbled up within me, spilling out. He stared in disbelief as I convulsed on the grass with laughter. "Do you think I care what Sakura told you?"  
  
"But. but you said."  
  
I pounced upon him again, taking advantage of his state of confusion. "Now I'm going to ask you something else, and this time I want you to tell me." I stared at him, willing him not to look away, and he stared back, eyes wide like a prey cornered.  
  
"What is it?" he whispered.  
  
I was distracted by the movement of his lips, and I gazed at them, transfixed, as I moved closer and closer. He did not move away. "How do you feel, when I do." my lips hovered above his, "this?."  
  
Our first and second kisses had seared me, but our third will forever be imprinted upon my soul. I caught his lips, nipping at them and tracing their outline with the flicker of my tongue. I had no idea where the instinct came from, teaching me what to do. It seemed like, when it came to him, I had known how to do this since time immemorial. But I wanted more, to advance further, and for that to happen, he had to respond. The patience of a ninja is not for nothing, and after several seconds, he yielded.  
  
It was one of the most incredible sensations in my entire life, the feel of his tongue tangling with mine. Then his arms came up around me, pulling me in, drawing me closer, and it was as if we would drown together in this whirlpool of sensation for all eternity.  
  
The need for breath broke us apart in the end, and the intensity in his eyes matched mine as we gasped to draw the air into our lungs. There was a question in his eyes that I wasn't able to answer. I wasn't ready.  
  
We pulled apart to return to our chakra-training under our respective trees, but I had not carved three more marks upon the trunk before I was barrelled to the ground by a cannonball. The remainder of the afternoon was one of. exploration.  
  
So were the other days of training. It was a blessing that Sakura had mastered her control of chakra so swiftly, and was thus not around to obstruct us. It was quite simple: we trained, then we. I would like to say fuck, but, to me, it always felt like something more. For all his idiocy, he appeared to sense my reluctance to discuss our situation further, and for once, kept his mouth shut and just 'got on with it'.  
  
The final time we did it was when we both succeeded in walking up to the tree-top at last. The triumph at having achieved it, the excitement and thrill at the possibility of falling off the branch as we moved against one another, combined to make it one of the most mind-blowing experiences I had ever had.  
  
I was almost reluctant to leave him sleeping the next morning as the rest of us left for the bridge to protect Tazuna. He looked so young as he lay there with his eyes closed, so vulnerable. I could still recall the near-silent whimpers he made in his slumber, the furrow in his brow - apparently Inari's words had struck much deeper than it had appeared. I wanted to slap the boy. Who was he to judge who Naruto was? When he had no idea, none at all, of what he had had to endure, just to get this far?! And as I raged, I realised I was also raging at myself, for the conclusions and assumptions I had made before I met him, for not seeing how similar he was to myself. Kindred spirits. I peered at him through the moonlight, forcing myself not to go near and hold him. Kakashi was on his other side and would have sensed any movement. Then I lay back down, drifting off to sleep with the sound of his breathing in my ears.  
  
I was divided when I heard his voice during the final battle on the bridge. He would do something stupid, I just knew it. And yet, I had hopes that we would be able to combine forces and defeat Haku, just like we had done the other time with Haku's master.  
  
My heart sank when he appeared in the trap next to me, and as the battle progressed, everything just seemed more and more hopeless. Haku didn't seem to be slacking, yet he didn't seem to want to kill us either. Naruto had fallen after trying to attack all the mirrors at one go, but I had no time to see if he was alright. I was too busy trying to dodge the deadly needles coming from every direction.  
  
I was getting desperate, racking my brains for a way to get the both of us out so I could examine the extent of Naruto's injuries. It was then that I realised I was beginning to see through Haku's movements, and anticipate them. The latent power of the Sharingan in my blood, long dormant, had finally been awoken.  
  
It alarmed Haku, who decided to up the ante. In that crystal moment when he made his move towards Naruto, I understood something. And suddenly, everything became perfectly simple. Under any other circumstance, I would have been in an agony of denial, torn by the complications it implied. But I had no time for any of that, not even a fraction of a second, and so it condensed into utter simplicity.  
  
I was in love with him, this bumbling fool of an idiot, with his unexpected powers and unfathomable potential, his passion for life and unbelievable strength. And if I had to die for him to live, then so be it.  
  
And like I said, I didn't even have to think. It was as if the instructions bypassed the thinking part of my brain, shooting straight from my heart to my body, and I was there, catching the needles before they could catch him.  
  
He is still asking why even as I collapse on him, still in denial, not wanting my help, not realising that it's freely offered, whether he desires it or not. There is simply no option there, it is something dictated by my soul.  
  
It overrides everything else, even the need for vengeance. A slight regret passes through me at the thought of evil unavenged, but I can't summon more than that. All of my fading concentration is focused on him, on his body next close to mine, at his fingers upon my cheek, at his eyes shining with emotions he probably still doesn't truly understand. But I do, and that's all that matters.  
  
"Don't die." I hear the heartfelt plea in his voice, the panic of being left behind.  
  
I'll try, if that's what he wants, if that's what he needs. I'll try not to die, because, now, that's all that matters.  
  
owari 


End file.
